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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25824178">Fireflies</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_is_samazing/pseuds/blue_is_samazing'>blue_is_samazing</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Growth AU [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Sanders Sides (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Gen, M/M, Multi, Other, Rated T for Remus, Rating Might Change, Slice of Life, Sympathetic Sides (Sanders Sides), individual warnings in chapter summaries, kinda i guess lol, no unsympathetic sides here!, only a few deeply flawed human beings, so id recommend following the series uwu, tags will be updated as the fic continues!, this is but one small arc in a much bigger story</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 02:20:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,500</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25824178</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_is_samazing/pseuds/blue_is_samazing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Logan Hart likes routine, black and navy polo shirts, and stars. He likes his brother's french toast on Tuesdays (but never Thursdays), brand new books with stiff spines, and on occasion, he'll enjoy some jelly toast when his homework is a little more challenging than usual. His peers, if they ever happen to notice him, will tell you he's the most boring guy they've ever met, and he's perfectly fine with that, because being on his own means no distractions from getting his diploma and making his brother--and himself--proud.</p><p>Remus Kingsley has never even heard of a routine, but he has heard of poutine, which reminds him of poo, which--well, you get the idea. He lives his life hopping from one impulse to the next, and only vaguely pays attention to anything that isn't a part of his next genius idea. He bleaches his hair in patches, splatters paint on his skateboard, and doesn't seem to believe in filters.</p><p>Two boys--one, with his nose stuck in a book, and another with his head in the clouds--collide, and the mess that follows might just make their lives better. But of course, one can't have the good without the bad, and not everyone is as they seem...</p><p>Spoiler alert: There's a happy ending, fuck Marvel.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Growth AU [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1873807</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>31</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Getting This Festivity Initiated</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello everyone, and welcome to my newest creation! Before we get started, I want you all to know I am in school, so updates will not be consistent, but I *will* finish this! Your patience is appreciated greatly, and I hope you enjoy!</p><p>Thanks for reading! -Sam</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>If you were to ask every student in Stokes High if they had ever met Logan Hart, all but maybe five would say no. Those five would not be able to tell you anything about Logan, other than he’s never late, he’s smart, and maybe annoying at times, and definitely nobody worth knowing. They would probably even say he likes it that way, because while some had tried to befriend him, all had failed. He’s just not the friend-making type, either because he’s too awkward, or just won’t shut up about assignments and books and stars.</p>
<p>To put it shortly, Logan Hart is not popular, and is, in fact, a very boring person. He likes routine, and hardly dares to stray from it. He hasn’t been late for class in his entire high school experience.</p>
<p>So imagine his surprise when, on one Tuesday in November, he woke up not to his alarm, but to his brother, Patton, shaking him awake.</p>
<p>“Logan,” the elder whisper-shouted. “C’mon bud, you should’ve been up half an hour ago!”</p>
<p>Logan groaned and sat up, turning to look at his alarm clock, which was blinking. “Power must’ve gone out,” he grumbled, and Patton nodded, stepping back from Logan’s bed and leaning against the doorframe.</p>
<p>“There was a storm. C’mon, get dressed, okay? I made you breakfast, you can eat on the bus.” With that, Patton left Logan’s room, shutting the door behind him with a little <em> click</em>. </p>
<p>Logan grabbed his glasses from his nightstand and slipped them on, the circular frames glinting in the sunlight streaming in through his window. After a moment, Logan tossed aside his covers and got up to get ready for the day.</p>
<p>Logan’s room had been one of the first to get furniture when he and Patton had moved into the house a few years back, and none of it had changed since. A cheap Ikea bookshelf, a dresser from their parents’ house, and Patton’s old twin bedframe--with a new mattress, of course. Logan had always hated the idea of reusing other people’s mattresses and blankets. If he was going to sleep with anybody’s dead skin, it would be his own, thank you very much. A desk was pushed up against the window, and Logan had always considered it his favorite feature of the room. It had been their father’s, after all, and had “Prof. T. Hart” engraved on one of the metal drawers.</p>
<p>Logan looked himself over in the mirror, now dressed in his favorite black polo and a pair of dark blue jeans, with black sneakers tied in a perfectly symmetrical bunny knot. He slipped a brain-shaped chew necklace over his head and slid it under his shirt, just in case. As an afterthought, he also grabbed his Rubik’s cube from his desk and set it in his backpack before slipping a strap over his shoulder and heading out.</p>
<p>Patton was drinking coffee at the kitchen table, an empty plate in front of him and a tupperware container of french toast in the spot where Logan would usually sit. Logan grabbed the container, and the plastic fork on top, and smiled at his brother.</p>
<p>“Thanks, Patton. When will you be home?”</p>
<p>Patton screwed up his face in thought. “Uh… I think sometime around eight? Hold on.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out his wallet. Before Logan could get a proper look inside, he was quickly shoving it back in his pocket and holding three ten dollar bills and two ones out to Logan. “Here, that should cover bus fare to school and whatever you wanna order for dinner, okay?”</p>
<p>Logan rolled his eyes and pocketed the cash. “Thanks Pat, I was planning on ordering half of a Chinese restaurant.”</p>
<p>“Oh hush, now go, or you’ll miss the bus again!”</p>
<p>Logan snickered and turned away, leaving the house and walking briskly to the bus stop.</p>
<p>Usually, Logan would ride the school bus or walk, depending on how he felt about people that day. But today, as was occasionally known to happen, he would be taking the public bus, which let off only a block away from his school. It wasn’t a terrible day to walk to the bus stop, as mornings go. It was still a little humid from the previous night’s rain, and the concrete was still damp, but the sun shone in a way that caught the water droplets on the leaves and grass perfectly.</p>
<p>The bus ride was uneventful, and empty, much to Logan’s relief, and after a delicious on-the-go breakfast, he arrived at school a good five minutes before the first bell. No longer worried about tardiness, he grabbed his astronomy book from his bag and read as he walked, his feet knowing where to take him without much mental input.</p>
<p>Unfortunately, this meant he wasn’t paying much attention to his surroundings, and much to his misfortune, neither was the boy on the skateboard, at least until it was too late.</p>
<p>“Oh shit-- Glasses, watch it!”</p>
<p>Logan looked up in alarm, and only managed to blink at the auburn-haired skater before impact was made.</p>
<p>The boys landed in a heap on the concrete, board and book both gone flying and Logan’s glasses knocked askew as he landed hard on his tailbone and elbows. The boy above him hissed in pain.</p>
<p>“Ah, fuck, sorry! Are you okay?” The boy had landed with his arms on either side of Logan’s waist, though he had a small gash on his forehead, which Logan deduced was from hitting it on the bench just to his right. Logan nodded as the boy began to stand.</p>
<p>“Yes, only bruised. You’re bleeding.”</p>
<p>The boy chuckled, then winced when he put pressure on his left hand. “That doesn’t surprise me.”</p>
<p>Logan stood himself up and brushed himself off a bit, looking the boy over as he slipped his book into his bag.</p>
<p>He had green eyes, and the beginnings of facial hair showing on his upper lip. He has a small scar on his left cheek, and he was wearing a torn up shirt and ripped jeans--both of which seemed to have been made that way by similar instances such as this.</p>
<p>Of course, what really drew Logan’s attention was the blood on the boy’s head and the swelling of his left wrist.</p>
<p>“Here,” Logan said, digging through his backpack and pulling out a small first-aid kit. “Sit down, let me at least stop the bleeding before you go to the nurse.”</p>
<p>The boy froze for a moment, then grinned and plopped down on the bench. “Wow specs, you came prepared, huh?”</p>
<p>Logan pressed some gauze to the boy’s wound. “I always carry a first-aid kit, as should everyone else. Accidents happen and it’s best to be prepared.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, but also blood looks cool, so do scars,” the boy retorted.</p>
<p>“I suppose. Hold this and apply pressure, I want to see your left wrist,” Logan ordered.</p>
<p>“If you wanted to hold my hand, you could’a just said so, handsome,” the boy teased, doing as he was told. Logan rolled his eyes and examined the boy’s wrist, looking up apologetically when he winced.</p>
<p>“As I suspected. It appears your wrist is sprained, and you will likely need a brace. Keep that pressure against your wound, I’ll escort you to the nurse.”</p>
<p>The boy scoffed. “I <em> know </em>where the nurse is, you don’t need to help me. You’ll be late for class.”</p>
<p>Logan paused at that, then shook his head, grabbing the boy’s skateboard and heading for the nurse with him. “One tardy won’t ruin my life. You’re injured and it is partially my fault for not paying attention. The least I can do is help you and take responsibility for my actions--or rather, my inaction.”</p>
<p>The boy--taller than Logan by a couple inches--blinked down at him, then shrugged. “Sure, whatever fucks your goat.”</p>
<p>Logan laughed, and a few hallway stragglers stared, then looked away at the boy's glare--all unnoticed by Logan.</p>
<p>When the two arrived at the nurse’s office, Nurse Val--a young woman with long brown hair pulled back into a loose bun and a friendly smile--immediately began fretting over the injured boy as the first bell rang.</p>
<p>“Good <em> lord </em>, Remus, fifth time this month” she muttered. “What did you do this time?” She looked up at Logan. “What happened?”</p>
<p>Logan opened his mouth to answer, but the boy--Remus?--beat him to it.</p>
<p>“It was my fault, Nursie. I was skating and I zoned out. He was just talking to his friends and I hit him right from behind! He fell like a bowling pin!” Remus cackled.</p>
<p>Logan gave Remus an odd look, which was met with a wink--clearly this boy didn’t know anything about Logan, or his two-way aversion to his peers, but that wasn’t surprising. Val looked between them a few times, then sighed. “Well, your wrist is sprained, and while I don’t think you’re concussed, it would be best to send you home, just to be safe.” She looked back over at Logan. “Head to class, I’ll e-mail your teacher and let them know you’re not skipping.”</p>
<p>Logan nodded and leaned the skateboard against the wall beside Remus, who suddenly didn’t seem very energetic. Nonetheless, he smiled up at Logan.</p>
<p>“Thanks for helpin’ me, specs. See ya around.”</p>
<p>Logan hesitated, then nodded. “Yes, hopefully with less crashing.” And with that, Logan left the office and headed to his first period class.</p>
<p>Remus was an interesting person, Logan noted, and it was not often that Logan found people worth his interest.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Backpacks Are Not Tupperware</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Warnings: Minor thought spirals/negative thinking, cursed sandwich</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>haha....been a while.....i have no excuse</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The next day, Logan was paying more attention to his surroundings, but he </span>
  <em>
    <span>certainly </span>
  </em>
  <span>wasn’t looking for anyone. Logan Hart doesn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>look </span>
  </em>
  <span>for anyone; he’s a firm loner, no exceptions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course, that makes the way his heart leapt and his eyes lit up at the sight of Remus a bit hard to explain.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Remus was sitting on the very same bench where they’d met the previous day, his left arm in a brace and his face tilted towards the grey sky, eyes unfocused. Logan took mental note of this and approached his acquaintance, lifting his backpack a bit higher on his shoulder. He cleared his throat, causing Remus to blink and shake his head, then grin when he noticed he had company.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Heya, specs! Fancy seeing you here!” Remus’ eyes were bright, and up close, Logan could see that there was cerulean paint on his cheek just below his scar, and a </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hello Kitty </span>
  </em>
  <span>bandage on his forehead, where he’d been gashed. The corners of Logan’s mouth twitched faintly upwards.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Remus,” he greeted politely. “I just wanted to make sure you’re feeling alright, after yesterday’s debacle.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, I’m feelin’ fine and dandy,” Remus exclaimed, hopping up and facing Logan fully. Logan could now see that under his open grey jacket, the boy was wearing a grey turtleneck crop top. As well as a pair of shorts with torn fishnets underneath. His skateboard rested upright against the bench beside his combat boot-clad feet. “How about you? You fell too, y’know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Logan shrugged, once again shifting his backpack to give his hands something to do. “As I said, I only suffered minor bruising. They’ll have faded by the end of the week, I’m sure.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Remus huffed. “Damn. Not even a cool scar, huh? I know I’m gonna have one!” He pointed enthusiastically to his forehead, and Logan held back a laugh, instead allowing himself a half smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, such a shame for me. I suppose you’ll have to enjoy it enough for the both of us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Remus’ eyebrows twitched upwards in what Logan could only assume was surprise--despite all his years studying, he never really could get the meaning of facial expressions down pat. Logan resisted the urge to chew his lip. Remus didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>look </span>
  </em>
  <span>upset, at least not that Logan could tell. But he can’t figure out what he said that could have been surprising, given that he had practically mirrored exactly what Remus himself had said. Did he miss something? A cue or gesture, perhaps something in tone? But running their interaction through his head again proved fruitless--he didn’t recall any sarcasm or irony, what had he missed?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello? Ground control to Major- Uh, fuck, I don’t know your name…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Logan blinked, and realized that Remus was standing directly in front of him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Directly</span>
  </em>
  <span>. As in, </span>
  <em>
    <span>invading his bubble</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Logan took a step back, refusing to let his discomfort show and keeping his face blank.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My name is Logan, and I apologize. I seem to have, as one might put it colloquially, </span>
  <em>
    <span>spaced out</span>
  </em>
  <span>. What were you saying?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Remus scratched the back of his head and gave an awkward sort of laugh. “Uh, no, don’t apologize! Sorry for, y’know, gettin’ so close, but you weren’t moving so…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Logan felt some of the tension in his shoulders loosen, the coil in his chest unwinding. “It’s quite alright, Remus. What were you saying before?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, right!” Remus dropped his arm, his grin returning. “I was wondering if you wanted to have lunch together?”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Ah. </span>
  </em>
  <span>This was certainly a conundrum. On one hand, Patton would encourage Logan to attempt to form new friendships. On the other hand…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Logan isn’t popular. Very few people know him by name, and nobody but his brother knows anything beyond that. This means that either Remus was attempting to use Logan as a sort of “pity project”, aka a means of gaining praise and popularity through taking on the arduous task of caring for a lesser being on the school’s social ladder, </span>
  <em>
    <span>or </span>
  </em>
  <span>Remus was being genuine, but risking his </span>
  <em>
    <span>own </span>
  </em>
  <span>stance on this figurative ladder, knowingly or unknowingly, by allowing Logan to be seen in a place as obvious and intentional as a cafeteria with him and any friends he has.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because that’s the thing: Meeting in the courtyard in the mornings? That can be brushed off as a coincidence, or even a simple way to pass the time. Remus could easily brush any concerns that may put his popularity at risk. Sitting at lunch, however, was an entirely different story. That was intentional. That was deliberate. That involved enough communication to establish both a shared lunch period and the location of a table, not to mention enough of a connection to spend such precious moments of blissful freedom with another person, </span>
  <em>
    <span>and </span>
  </em>
  <span>a level of comfort high enough to eat around said person.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To put it shortly, lunch with Logan could signal to others that Logan was Remus’... Friend. And Logan had already ruled out the former “pity project” option, because he’d learned from his brother what sincerity looked like, and Remus was definitely being sincere.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So what does he say?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, for a moment, he said nothing. For a moment, he bit down on the side of his tongue and stared at the pink bandage on Remus’ forehead as all of this ran through his head. But the moment passed, and…</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, I think that would be adequate.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If Logan were to be honest, he was a bit anxious about this whole situation. He’d never really had any friends before, and he’d never dedicated much time learning to make any. He knew what his brain was wired for, and it simply wasn’t people.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which is why, when lunchtime rolls around, he found himself keeping his hands busy with his Rubik’s cube and scanning the cafeteria as best as he could without meeting anyone’s eyes--a far more challenging task than one might think. He felt a weight begin to settle on his chest as he realized he wasn’t seeing any sign of Remus, and he mentally cursed himself for getting his hopes up. Of </span>
  <em>
    <span>course </span>
  </em>
  <span>nobody would really want to be around him, not even Remus, who had seemed so damn sincere about it. Then again, perhaps the fault was on Logan for once again being unable to, in the words of many others in his life, “take a fucking joke”.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Logan sighed and turned away from the cafeteria, heading towards the stairs with the intention of spending yet another lunch alone in the library, as had been his routine for years. He was halfway up the stairs, however, when a familiar voice rang out from across the cafeteria, prompting him to lift his eyes back up from the floor and look out over the crowd.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey specs,” Remus shouted at an impressive volume, waving his hand in the air frantically. “You ditchin’ me already?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Heat rose in Logan’s neck and burned across his cheeks and the tops of his ears as he dropped his eyes and hunched his shoulders, going back down the stairs and meeting Remus at the bottom. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Was the shouting really necessary?” His voice was low, and just the slightest bit accusatory, but Remus only chuckled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, actually!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t like being stared at,” Logan hissed, and Remus rolled his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why don’cha look up and tell me how many people are staring, then?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Logan huffed and quickly glanced upwards, once again scanning the cafeteria. He saw no eyes looking at him, and he blinked, his posture straightening and his shoulders relaxing. “Huh. That is… Unexpected.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Remus shrugged. “Not really. Nobody really gives a shit, y’know? Even if they </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>notice, they’d forget by the time the bell rings, so don’t worry so much, ‘kay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Logan looked up at Remus, who was giving him an odd smile--</span>
  <em>
    <span>reassuring</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Logan’s brain supplied. Logan decided it worth the risk of seeming unprofessional to smile back, and something happened with Remus’ eyes that reminded Logan of sunshine and willow trees and babbling waters.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So,” Remus began, shaking Logan from that thought. “You hungry?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Logan shrugged. “I don’t usually eat lunch, so no, I’m not particularly hungry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me neither!” Remus spun on his heel and began walking away from the cafeteria, and after a moment of processing this action, Logan followed. “How do you feel about that sandwich place across the street?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Logan paused. “It is… Adequate? But we aren’t allowed to leave the campus during school hours, if you’re considering going there…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Remus laughed, turning his head to grin at Logan. “That’s the fun part! C’mon, my photo teacher lets me sneak out of xir classroom, xe has our back!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Logan sighed, knowing he was in too deep to back out now without letting Remus down. And, strangely enough, Logan did not want to let Remus down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>True to his word, Remus’ photo teacher did help them sneak out, and in ten minutes they were on their way back from the sandwich shop; Logan with a turkey melt, and Remus with a peanut butter and pickle sandwich on rye. They both ate as they walked, occasionally talking in between. Logan learned that Remus was a senior, listened to bands Logan had never heard of, found his photography and creative writing classes to be the most enjoyable, and was at risk of failing the other five of his classes. In return, Logan informed Remus that he was actually a year ahead--having skipped fifth grade--and he struggled in English due to how subjective it all was. In the same vein, he had traded in art classes for aquatics and astronomy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the time they got back to the school, Logan’s sandwich was gone, and the second half of Remus’ was shoved haphazardly in the biggest pocket of his bag, much to Logan’s concern for anything else his companion was carrying. Remus had almost seemed disappointed when the bell rang, signalling the end of their time together for the day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, Logan, you got a phone?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Logan blinked. “Yes, I do. Why do you ask?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Remus bounced a bit on his toes. “Well, I was wondering if we could trade numbers? Y’know, so we can text and call and stuff?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Logan chose to ignore the warmth in his chest as he nodded and pulled his phone from his pocket. He chose to ignore the way he knew his lips were betraying him, curling into a smile he rarely allowed himself to show outside of his own home. He ignored the urge to skip to his next class, and he ignored how his heartbeat seemed to grow irregular for just a moment when his phone buzzed in his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>From: remus🐙</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>i vote we do that again :)</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>To: remus🐙</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>I believe that would be adequate.</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>From: remus🐙</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>hehe cool beans</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>see ya tmrw specs</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>To: remus🐙</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>My name is Logan.</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>From: remus🐙</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>lol my bad</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <strong>see ya tmrw *Logan ;)</strong>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Logan most certainly did </span>
  <em>
    <span>not </span>
  </em>
  <span>giggle quietly to himself. Logan would never giggle. But, if he </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span>, it would have been at the same time as another boy in a different classroom, a boy with the beginnings of a mustache and a </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hello Kitty </span>
  </em>
  <span>bandaid on his face, did so too, ignoring the reproachful stares of the other kids around him as he kicked his combat boots with glee.<br/></span>
</p><p>
  <span>They didn’t matter, anyway.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>if you eat Remus' sandwich get off my fic /j<br/>also, if you see any errors, let me know!</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>My tumblr: https://i-will-sometimes-make-a-sound.tumblr.com/<br/>feel free to drop in and ask any questions there or in the comments below!</p></blockquote></div></div>
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